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Cbe Cbronick of 
Quititus, the Roman Knight 

By 

ARTHUR BENTON SANFORD 




THE ABINGDON PRESS 
NEW YORK CINCINNATI 






Copyright. 1922, by 

ARTHUR BENTON SANFORD 



FVinted in the 

Unst«d States of Aroen'c 

0)C!.A659143 

M1\R 15 1922 



IN MEMORY 

OF 

ABSENT ONES 

WHO 

HAVE ENTERED 

INTO LIFE 



CONTENTS 

PAGE 
An Opening Word 7 

I. A Roman Quest 11 

II. In Solomon's PorcK 20 

III. CKrist Himself tke Witness 

to Immortality 27 

IV. Cicero or Christ? 34 

V. Tlie Vision of tke Risen 

Christ 39 

VI. Christ's Witnesses at Rome 46 



AN OPENING WORD 

QANY voices had been 
speakingf of eternal 
life, before tke days of the 
Son of man. Especially pro- 
nounced had been the teach- 
ings of the Egyptians that 
there is another world. In 
their > Acadian hymns the 
Chaldasans had dimly fore- 
told a future life. The belief 
of the Parsees, as expressed 
in their Zend-Avesta, had in- 
cluded a place of darkness for 
the evil soul and a reward for 
the good in the realm of light. 
The Hindus had declared, in 
their Rig-Veda, their beautiful 
conception of the immortality 
of the soul, and had written of 
a future "imperishable world, 
where there is eternal light 
and glory.'' The Grecian and 
Roman mythologies had 
voiced their hope of blessed- 
ness for the shades of the de- 
parted. Everyw^here serious 
7 



men kad been asking as to tke 
experiences teyond tlie grave. 
It was as if the Eastern world 
had become a vast parliament 
chamber, w^herein the nations 
were proclaiming their differ- 
ent doctrines as to a future 
life. 

In the midst of these vary- 
ing and uncertain voices, 
Christ spoke his authoritative 
message. There was no 
w^avering m his tone. What 
the Oriental philosophers 
w^ere guessing, he revealed ; 
w^hat the Hebrew^ prophets 
had foreshadowed in their 
holy w^ritmgs, he unfolded m 
full light. The ancient Vedic 
hymns, the oracles of Greece, 
the Egyptian Book of ^^^ 
Dead, anticipating by two 
thousand years the Hebrew 
exodus — all these are naught 
compared with the words of 
that inspired Teacher who 
spoke in Palestine. 

In addition, Christ was him- 
self the vital evidence of the 
resurrection which he taught. 
Against the assaults of doubt 
his unique teachings are but- 
tressed forevermore by his 
own return from the land of 
silence. In a short week after 
8 



his words to Martlia at Beth- 
any he had become, through 
his own rare experience, 'the 
resurrection and the hfe/' 
Not the dead Buddha, nor the 
departed Zoroaster, nor the 
vanished Pythagoras ever 
came hack through the opened 
door of the sepulcher, wearing 
the grave clothes of those who 
sleep. Human fancy had never 
dreamed of such a rapturous 
denouement for faiths other 
than Christianity. The resur- 
rection of the Lord is the 
crowning narrative with the 
which the Gospels close. It 
is a risen Christ who repairs 
the wastage of human decay 
and death. A voice above all 
those from Ind or Persia or 
the Nile speaks henceforth in 
Judasa and the world concern- 
ing immortality. The superla- 
tive Easter argument is the 
risen Christ himself. 



I 

A ROMAN QUEST 

'*If one might only have a guide to 
truth/' — Seneca. 



N Scopus, tlie high moun-' 
tain north of Jerusalem, 
tne Roman camp was pitcned, 
that last autumn m the min- 
istry of Jesus of Nazareth. A 
few years further on, if the 
w^arriors of the Emperor Ti- 
terius could then have fore- 
seen the future, Titus w^as to 
quarter his famous legions on 
that vantagfe point; and from 
its elevation he was to hurl 
himself as a resistless batter- 
ing ram against the Holy City. 
But, on this autumn day, 
when these chronicles begin, 
no blare of trumpets was sum- 
moning the Roman soldiery to 
arms ; only the feet of the 
camp sentinels, as they walked 
their appointed rounds, broke 
the quiet of the sunlit after- 
noon. 

11 



That lithesome, cultivated, 
serious-minded youn^ knight, 
Qumtus Cornelius Benigfnus, 
IS standingf on the height 
which overlooks the great me- 
tropolis. He is the son of 
Marcus Cornelius Magnus, 
that Roman noble who is the 
intimate associate of the 
reigning Caesar, and who has 
been a luxurious resident on 
the Palatine Hill since his dis- 
tinguished proconsulship in 
Africa. 

By the side of Quintus is 
his fellow soldier Aulus. They 
had spent their boyhood to- 
gether among the scenes of 

NOTE. It is not from any time- 
marked Hebrew roll tliat this story 
of Quintus is now taken. He was 
of Roman tlood, and his record is, 
rather, to he found in the Latin 
literature of his time. Well it is 
when some new leaf is discovered 
among the musty folios, reciting 
the saintly character and the 
triumphs of those who lived when 
Christianity was new. This record 
shows the worth of consecrated 
life and service in the days when 
the luxurious Roman state most 
needed a Christian citizenship. 
ijut the lesson is none the less for 
these last days, when the hope of 
the world is in the creed of 
Quintus. 

12 



Rome; now they are com- 
panions still, on tnis last 
Roman expedition to tke dis- 
trict of Judaea. While the com- 
mon soldiery are throwmgf 
their dice in the camp 
thoroughfare, these are speak- 
ing of more serious things. 
The picture on which they look 
from lofty Scopus includes the 
shining roofs of Jerusalem, 
the wooded Mount of Olives, 
and the far landscape to the 
south and west; its undula- 
tions and brilliant colorings no 
Roman artist might put upon 
the canvas. 

With the autumn haze cov- 
ering the extended panorama, 
Quintus says first to his com- 
rade : 

'What the fates have m 
store for me, here in the city 
of Hierosolyma, I am much 
wondering. The day before 
our trireme sailed from Brun- 
disium for Tyrus I made a 
visit to the augur's tent. His 
prediction was that my jour- 
ney hither would be followed 
by strange consequences. The 
flight of the birds through the 
air did not reveal to him just 
what was to occur; but that 
13 



something eventful was to 
take place he was very sure. 
What IS to be my fortune?' 

*^'Your lot it may be/' 
answers Aulus, to perform 
some daring deed, here in our 
Jewish campaign ; and on your 
return to Rome you may re- 
ceive a great rew^ard from the 
hand of Tiberius/' 

Tn my mind this has 
been/' replies Quintus; ''be* 
fore I left Rome I had an 
audience with our divine 
Caesar, and he was pleased to 
say that my fidelity here might 
bring me special recompense. 
Yet w^ould that be satisfying? 
I have seen the triumphal pro- 
cessions in the streets of 
Rome, when heroes have been 
acclaimed ; I have heard our 
statesmen in the Senate hall, 
and prize the joys of oratory; 
I have been served all my 
days by slaves in my father's 
palace, and know the sw^eet- 
ness of the Falernian wine in 
the banquet room. A procon- 
sulate, if I might come to that 
dignity, would be a high honor 
to write in my life story. But, 
my dear Aulus, would there be 
content in this? My restless 
soul seems crying out for 
14 



some tetter giit from tlie 
gods/' 

^'It cannot be/' continues 
Aulus, ''^that your heart's love 
is involved. When our military 
movements bring the Roman 
knights to Palaestina, in their 
pride of birth they do not wed 
the black-eyed daughters of 
the Je>vs. On your earlier ex- 
pedition to Egypt you met a 
princess of the land, but were 
not let to espouse that swarthy 
maiden of the Nile. The re- 
ward of love cannot be the 
experience of w^hich the augur 
spoke at Brundisium.' 

'Not so," says Qumtus in 
response ; * as I was leaving 
Rome, it w^as the beautiful 
Lucretia who sent me forth 
with her rare farewell. For 
my return from Palaestina she 
is now waiting ; and under the 
blue skies of Italia we are to 
wed. I have been wondering," 
Quintus adds further, ""'if the 
augur, watching the flight of 
birds there at Brundisium, 
could mean that I am to fall by 
death, here m Palasstina, We 
have not come for battle, but 
to guard the peace. Yet it is 
easy for Atropos, that cruel 
fate, to clip the slender thread 
15 



of life and send men on to tke 
land of snades. If tkis was 
wliat the augfur meant, no 
Roman in the days of Tiberius 
has ever set forth upon a more 
serious adventure/' 

'You are gfiven to melan- 
choly, this autumn afternoon, 
my comrade Quintus,'' the 
other says ; Vou are feeling 
that sadness which comes to 
men when the Dryads move 
over the earth and touch the 
leaves into crimson and ^old 
and brown/' 

Not so,' answers Qumtus ; 
out I am remembering that 
I have come into a land where 
a strange Teacher is speaking 
to men of a future life. Yet are 
men to live again? I have seen 
the marble tombs on the Ap- 
pia Via where the Scipios, the 
Metelli, and so many more of 
our great Romans lie asleep. 
Shall I soon follow them? Is 
it an endless slumber? What 
is it that the new Rabbi from 
Nazareth means, when m the 
city yonder he speaks of an- 
other life?" 

""""A fig for your weird au- 
tumn fancy," responds Aulus; 
''down to the streets of Hieros- 
olyma w^e will go, and among 
16 



their novel si^kts >ve will for- 
get your serious meaitations. 

They walk that afternoon 
as sigfhtseers through the 
crowded Jewish emporium. 
The shops remind them, with 
all their contrasts, of the 
marts of Rome, for men 
always and everywhere have 
the trader's passion. In the 
narrow^ streets of Jerusalem 
they see the stir of many 
activities. The workman is 
hammering his brass ; the 
shoemaker shapes his san- 
dals ; the flax spinner is w^md- 
ing his thread ; the scrite sits 
on his mat, and is ready for 
his writing. In the shops they 
see costly merchandise for 
sale — silks and jewels, fine 
linens and perfumes, delicious 
foods and drinks. These have 
been imported from far Arabia 
and India; they have been 
brought from distant Persia 
and Media. With all their 
variety, no taste, however fit- 
ful, need go unsatisfied. 

What a motley crowd is on 
the streets ! They hear the 
Aramaic speech of Palestine, 
w^hich Qumtus has been 
taught by his Athenian tutor, 
17 



and their ears also catck the 
accents of other foreign 
tongues. They meet traders 
from western Zidon, sailors 
from Crete, bearded Idu- 
maeans from beyond Judaea, 
and scholars from far Alex- 
andria. Magnmcent Jerusa- 
lem it IS ! Yet destined soon to 
fall. For the day draws near 
w^hen the Roman Titus shall 
w^eep on Scopus over its fading 
splendors and then shall smite 
it to the dust. 

One purchase only does 
Quintus make. In a shop 
w^here Egyptian wares are sold 
he says to Aulus : 

"Look on this scarab, this 
sacred beetle, which has been 
shaped by some workman 
down in Thebae on the Nile. 
We may be sure that no peo- 
ple believes more intensely in 
a future life. What compli- 
ment they pay this physical 
frame of men when they hold 
that embalmment restores to 
the soul its former body ! After 
the judgment of Osiris, if their 
lives be true, the w^orthy shall 
enjoy the companionship of 
the great god forever. No 
other people wears such a visi- 
ble emblem of their faith in 
18 



another life. I will tuy this 
scarab for an amulet against 
accident and evil. 

But where had the workman 
gone w^ho once had shaped 
that token of immortality? 
Whither had vanished his 
carver's skill? Where had dis-» 
appeared his projects and his 
dreams? Quintus is not think- 
ing of any proconsulship he 
may w^in, or even of the love 
light in the eyes of Lucretia, 
as he climbs again the heights 
of Scopus. Rather he is med- 
itating on the departed maker 
of scarabs — and on the des- 
tiny of the soul. For ages the 
philosophers have been spec- 
ulating about the future life. 
Familiar is Quintus with the 
view^s of Laelius and Seneca, 
among the Roman inquirers, 
and with the teachings of the 
great Grecians who have 
spoken in classic Athens. But 
now the question leaps to the 
front. Quintus is m the city 
where Ayran travelers and 
Persian magi and Egyptian 
priests are busy telling their 
theories of immortality. He is 
in the very streets, besides, 
where a sandaled Teacher 
19 



from Nazareth is declaring 
tliat the dead shall live again. 
If but half IS true that this 
strange Man is reputed to 
have said, no priest of Jupiter 
has ever uttered at Rome so 
luminous a word. Can it be 
that Quintus himself shall see 
this Christus and hear his 
message? If so, his will be in 
very truth a momentous quest. 



II 

IN SOLOMON S PORCH 

"Give me new consolation, ^reat 
and strong, of wKicK I Kave 
never keard or read." — Tiling. 

'^£] I ' ITH increasing fre- 
UkcA* quency Christ was now 
speaking his prophecies of the 
life immortal. In his earlier 
ministry he had been dwelling 
upon the presence of the 
divine kingdom m the earth, 
the practical conditions for 
membership therein, and the 
inclusion of Gentile as w^ell as 
Jew in the gracious provision. 
Novel w^ere his w^ords. Who- 
ever had heard his discourse 
20 



on tlie Mount or the parable 
of tke lost sKeep was ricn be- 
yond tlie modern sons of men. 
But now, in the closing period 
of his stay w^ith mortals, he 
wsiS more frequently foretell- 
ing the life to come. Like a 
footworn traveler d r a w^ i n g 
near the homeland, he w^as 
keenly anticipating his return 
to the spirit world. Those who 
listened to him heard majestic 
intimations of a celestial coun- 
try w^hich eye had not beheld. 
Nor is it to be thought that the 
Gospels, m their restricted 
pages, have recorded half his 
words concerning the 
heavenly land. 

Now^ comes the opportunity 
for Qumtus himself to hear 
this new^ Teacher of the Jews. 
A messenger from Pilate, sent 
on an errand to the head- 
quarters at Scopus, brings the 
tidings that Christ is in Jeru- 
salem as a visitor at the Feast 
of Dedication. Favored are 
those who hear through the 
years the w^orld's commanding 
voices ; beyond estimate is the 
high privilege now granted 
Quintus. 

T will hasten m to Hieroso- 
lyma,'' he says to Aulus, who 
21 



IS detained by camp duties;^'! 
\vill near nim for myself; and 
I will tringf you back report 
as to this latest prophet of 
immortality/' 

With his soldier's cloak 
about him, m protection 
against the winter's chill, 
Quintus is aWay to Jerusalem. 
The national Feast of Dedica- 
tion attracts his notice. A 
courteous Hebrew^ explains to 
him that the joyful festival 
commemorates the cleansing 
of the Temple after its prof- 
anation by Antiochus Epipha- 
nes, tw^o hundred years be- 
fore. The procession of pious 
Jews, carrying their palm 
branches and marching to the 
heights of Moriah, the chant- 
ing of the great Hallel within 
the imposing fane, the ascrip- 
tion of praise to Jehovah all 
impress the keen-eyed soldier. 

The enthusiasm of it all ! 
Though of other blood, Quin- 
tus clearly feels the thrill of 
patriotism that stirs the multi- 
tude about him ; and he under- 
stands m some measure their 
impatient w^aiting for the com- 
ing prince who shall deliver 
Israel. 

22 



But is tkis all? Instead it is 
only the beginning of the 
wonders which the serious 
Quintus is to witness. Forth 
he passes to the eastern clois- 
ter of the Temple, known then 
among the Jews as Solomon s 
Porch, in memory of their il- 
lustrious king. The bystanders 
tell Quintus that it is built of a 
fragment of the first Temple 
which Nebuchadnezzar had 
left standing. As the soldier 
looks down the far-reaching 
aisle, he sees a quadruple row 
of white Corinthian columns, 
one hundred and sixty m num- 
ber, and extending a length of 
many hundred feet. The vista 
is most amazing. Accustomed 
though he has been all his 
days to the magnificence of 
the Roman architecture, he 
yields in willing admiration to 
the splendors of the Solomonic 
porch. 

Then— he sees the Christ! 
Walking through that forest of 
massive columns is the super- 
lative Jew of his times, and of 
all times. For now — when the 
voices of that winter day are 
still, and Solomon's Porch has 
vanished where stood those 
blessed feet — there is no 
23 



earthly measurement by 
wliick to estimate tke Man 
whom Qumtus saw. 

Amon^ the throng that sur- 
round him hostile Pharisees 
challenge him to tell them 
plainly if he be the foretold 
Messiah. With impatient 
hearts they have waited longf 
for their redemption. Let him 
say if their deliverer has now 
come. Then shall they throw 
off the yoke of the detested 
Roman rule and renew their 
ancient monarchy w^ith en- 
larging influence and increas- 
ing splendors. 

Memorable words in an- 
swer does Qumtus hear. The 
Stranger puts aside the 
thought of the Jewish strug- 
gle for an earthly throne, and 
turns in his fancy to the quiet 
pastures where feed the 
flocks. He is a guardian Shep- 
herd ; Israel and all the world 
besides are his cherished 
sheep. Those who are truly 
his shall hear his guiding 
voice, and shall follow him. 
They shall never perish. From 
the hand of the Shepherd no 
vandal shall steal his own 
away. How the w^ords thrill! 
24 



Sometimes Quintus nas seen 
in tlie Judaean pastures tlie 
keeper with his flocks, and 
knows how unchanging is his 
fidelity. It is as if this watcher 
in his devotion is anticipating 
the faithfulness of the greater 
Shepherd. How entrancing is 
the lesson to this seeking sol- 
dier from beyond the Adriatic ! 
Then does the Christ add 
another word more surprising 
than the rest. To men who are 
his sheep he makes a promise 
that compasses the furthest 
limit of the eternities. Of such 
he says : ''Unto those who fol- 
low^ me I w^ill give the Life of 
the Ages. Beyond the tomb 
they are to live on forever- 
more.'' Nor to the Jews alone, 
amid the maze of those Corin- 
thian columns, does the com- 
ing Shepherd speak. The 
listening Roman soldier, 
w^earing the armor of the 
empire on the Tiber, comes 
within the circle of his 
promise. Into the face of 
Quintus he looks and benignly 
says : ''There are other sheep 
not of the Jewish pasture, to 
whom I shall give this unend- 
ing life. I covet your great 
empire as my own. O soldier 
25 



of the Caesars, follow after 



me ! 



Back to tke camp on Scopus 
tne soldier ^oes, moved to his 
deepest soul. Impossible it 
seems to longer worship the 
Roman gods. When he has 
described to Aulus the Feast 
of Dedication, he repeats the 
words he has heard in the 
Temple cloister, and says m 
deepest seriousness : 

^'Most unearthly is the Man 
on whom I have looked to-day. 
In his speech a divine patience, 
kindness, and dignity com- 
bine. As for the words he 
spoke, I cannot tell their mov- 
ing power. The sayings of our 
noblest Romans are feeble in 
the comparison. Never have I 
heard another speak as he has 
done about a future world. 
Truly, an unequaled Man is 
this new^ Teacher w^ho is 
abroad in Judasa.' 

Sleep is of little conse- 
quence that night. Is the word 
of the augur at Brundisium be- 
ginning to be fulfilled? In his 
tent Quintus is wondering 
through the long hours if, 
among his people on the Tiber, 
the Shepherd shall not find 
26 



some sheep to whom he will 
give the unendingf life. 



Ill 

CHRIST HIMSELF THE 
WITNESS TO IM- 
MORTALITY 

*'He appeared to them alive again 
tne tnird day, as tKe divine proph- 
ets had foretold." — Josephus. 

^ /t 

jp^ O W often have men 

<. i missed the sight of 

great historic occurrences, m 
their attention to the routine 
of life ! So it was that Qumtus 
did not witness the tragic 
events of that Passover w^eek 
on w^hich human destiny w^as 
to turn. To Tyre on the Great 
Sea he had gone, to arrange 
for the landing of a new quota 
of troops from Brundisium. 
The commander at Scopus had 
chosen him for the responsible 
mission, m token of his espe- 
cial fitness. The compliment 
was pleasing. But m his 
absence he was ever thinking 
of the promise made by the 
Teacher m Solomon's Porch, 
27 



that the sheep who loUowecl 
him should have eternal life. 
Astir was all Jerusalem, 
when the knight returned to 
Scopus. It was on the morning 
after the Lord's resurrection. 
That Roman centurion w^ho 
had been at Calvary reviewed 
for Quintus the fateful hap- 
penings. With pomp remind- 
ing of a Roman triumph the 
Christ had entered David's 
city; after four days Iscariot 
had betrayed him with a kiss ; 
for blasphemy Pilatus, the pro- 
curator, had sentenced him to 
the cross ; they had put on him 
a scarlet robe m mockery; 
they had hung him between 
two robbers on the hill of 
Golgotha ; a brutal soldier now^ 
at Scopus had won by lot 
his seamless robe, and w^as 
jauntily displaying it as a 
trophy; an uncanny darkness 
had covered the Judasan sky; 
the soldier Longmus had 
pierced the sufferer's side; 
they had buried the dead 
Christ in the garden tomb of 
the Arimathaean Joseph. Mon- 
umental events were these — 
all new to Quintus, but des- 
tined to be written indelibly in 
the calendars of Christendom. 
28 



''More than tkis/' con- 
tinues tlie centurion, an 
amazingf rumor is now abroad 
in tlie city tliat yesterday the 
dead Christus awoke from his 
sleep and has been five times 
seen by his amazed disciples. 
When I beheld him yield up 
the gfhost, I hailed his death as 
that of a devout man, but little 
did I think that he was a God 
and would return from the 
tomb. The report says he has 
now come back. On swift 
w^ing the rumor has fiow^n 
through Jerusalem and even 
into Pilate's palace. '^ 

Down from the heights of 
Scopus the hurrying feet of 
Qumtus carry him to Jeru- 
salem. Doubts and w^onder- 
ings and half-beliefs fill his 
mind. What if by any shadow 
of possibility the prediction of 
the strange Teacher has been 
fulfilled, that he should return 
from the dead on the third 
day? Finding his way to Jo- 
seph's garden, Quintus stands 
by an empty sepulcher. There 
is a group of wondering vis- 
itors near, and among them is 
one w^hose inviting face leads 
Quintus to accost him. Not 
29 



fri^Ktened by the sword and 
armor of tne Roman knight, 
but assured by bis candid 
look., tbe otber answers in tbe 
Aramaic wbicb botb can speak : 

^Johannes is my name. Till 
tbree years ago I was a fisher- 
man, up on tbe waters of Gen- 
nesaret. Since tben I bave 
been a disciple of tbis Man 
from Galilee. In bis company 
I bave beard surprising words 
and bave felt a heavenly in- 
fluence. He w^as no ordinary 
Teacher. He was indeed from 
above.'' 

Ts it true/' asks Qumtus m 
breathless words, 'that your 
Master has risen from the 
grave? I bave been aw^ay in 
Tyrus. Now^ m the Roman 
camp on Scopus I have heard 
that be has come forth from 
the sepulcher. What means 
such a marvelous report?' 

'"Yes, it is all true," John 
answers w^ith his face aglow; 
"^'tbis IS the very sepulcher 
where our Lord w^as laid. Your 
O'wn sentries kept guard be- 
fore tbe tomb securely sealed. 
But on the morning of yester- 
day there was a shaking of the 
earth ; some angelic visitantr 
rolled aw^ay the stone door o 
30 



tKe grave; and our immortal 
CKristus came forth agam. 

''Astounding/' Quintus m- 
terrupts in a whirl of words; 
''but did he make any promise 
of another life for men, before 
he was put to death? 

"He truly did/' replies the 
disciple ; "when we had eaten 
the Passover supper with him, 
he spoke a word more marvel- 
ous than any of your Roman 
teachers has ever uttered. Into 
the spirit world he said he was 
departing, to make ready a 
room in the Father's ample 
house for those who were his 
own; and on his return he 
would take them to be with 
himself. Ever since our sad- 
hearted band have been com- 
forting themselves with this 
last promise in the upper 
room. 

"None of our Roman gods 
has ever promised such a fu- 
ture,' responds Quintus ; but 
is this all? " 

"No," answers the disciple; 
"on his cross our Christus 
spoke again about another ex- 
perience for men. By his side 
was Dysmas, the crucified 
robber, grieving for his faults 
and asking comfort. When 
31 



the cross pain and thirst w^ere 
over, our Lord replied, the 
outlaw should walk with him 
amon^ the bowers of the 
beautiful Paradise beyond this 
w^orld's horizon. It w^ a s 
enough. In this consolation 
the tortured Dysmas passed 
on, with a smile of peace upon 
his face/' 

'Have you more wonders to 
tell?' presses Qumtus, m his 
eagerness, w^hile the story of 
the cross begins to compel his 
judgment and call for his 
heart's surrender. 

Then, the consummation ! 
In ecstatic words John tells of 
the one final and overmaster* 
mg proof, m the thought of the 
eleven disciples : 

''Greatest of all, w^e have 
ourselves seen our Friend 
again. Five times already has 
he showed himself. First, 
Mary of Magdala saw^ him 
under the trees of the garden, 
and spoke with him; then the 
other women met him and fell 
at his feet; next our fellow 
disciple Petros saw^ him ; then 
two of our band w^alked with 
him to outlying Emmaus, and 
knew^ him as he broke bread 
at the journey's end ; and then 
32 



last evening, he came to ten of 
us in the Passover room and 
spoke Ills peace on us. 

^'Perhaps you have all seen 
a spectral form wnicn has no 
real existence/' remonstrates 
Quintus, while all the time he 
is yielding himself to the com- 
pelling story. 

'It cannot he/' responds 
the convincing John; 'there 
have been too many witnesses 
for that. We have seen the 
very w^ound made by the spear 
of Longfinus ; we have heard 
his familiar voice ; we have re- 
ceived his blessmgf. Our num- 
ber IS our evidence ; it cannot 
be possible that all of us have 
been deceived. It is surely he, 
O Roman soldier, unless the 
senses of the women and of 
ten honest men are far astray. 
No other teacher of the East 
has ever come back from the 
sepulcher. Look and see for 
yourself. Yonder is Joseph's 
empty tomb. The Christus is 
himself the evidence." 

What can Quintus do, in the 
face of such proof as this? He 
returns to Scopus in wildest 
tumult. Little does he say to 
Aulus, his chosen friend. The 
33 



company of Longinus or tke 
centurion he does not seek. 
The time has come — as it 
comes to all — wKen he must 
commune with himself, 4incl 
make the decision confrontingf 
every soul that has heard the 
resurrection story. 

IV 
CICERO OR CHRIST? 



"TKe name of Jesus can still re- 
move distractions from tKe 
minds of men.'' — Origen. 



HALL men believe m a 
future life because of 
Christ s return from the gfrave? 
Is his established resurrection 
at Jerusalem the climacteric 
proof for immortality? The 
problem is inescapable. Every 
man is himself a judge ; be- 
fore every man the accu- 
mulated evidence passes; for 
every man it is doomsday 
when he stands at the point of 
decision. 

In his sore perplexity Quin- 
tus says to himself that night, 
when he has returned from 
34 



his interview with tke disciple 
JoKn: ''My soul is like a 
traveler who halts at the point 
where two roads meet. Great 
issues depend upon his choice. 
But while he hesitates may 
the immortals, who watch over 
the destinies of men, ^uide 
his feet aright.'' 

Clearly defined are the 
alternatives before the Roman 
soldier. On thd one hand 
are his ancestral beliefs, long 
established and deeply 
cherished by the nation. Nor 
does any man quickly toss 
aside the faith of his fathers. 
If belief is waning in the 
primitive mythologies, and if 
the social life of the Empire is 
moved by unrest and despair, 
the problem is to find a greater 
satisfaction. There have been 
spoken many beautiful words 
by the Roman scholars which 
are sw^eet premonitions of im- 
mortality. Does not Qumtus 
remember that Cicero likens 
to heaven a port prepared, 
and prays that he may sail 
thither with full-spread sails? 
And if the gifted Cicero has 
just gone tragically out of life, 
let it be hoped that he has 
reached the harbor. 
35 



But on the other hand are 
the challenging and captivat- 
ing words of Christ. Had he 
only spoken of the future life 
as an enthusiastic Teacher, 
and then had passed to the 
perpetual slumber of the grave 
like other philosophers of the 
time, he would he remem- 
bered long. But, when he had 
spoken his words concerning 
immortality, he had added, ''I 
myself shall surely come back 
again.' From the evidence 
which Quintus has heard in 
Jerusalem he has now fulfilled 
his prediction. He has put to 
scorn the fidelity of the Roman 
sentinels at the tomb of Jo- 
seph ; he has reversed the laws 
of nature ; he has appeared 
again, in unique proof that 
there is to be a resurrection of 
the dead. Wide is the differ- 
ence between Cicero and the 
Christ. The one has spoken a 
mere opinion, so beautiful m 
its phrase that it shall pass 
down into the future literature 
of men. The other has spoken 
a revelation, and then has re- 
turned to prove that revela- 
tion true. Which shall it be 
— Cicero or the Christ? 

But to accept the Jewish 
36 



Teacher means earthly loss. 
As lie keeps gfuard with him- 
self through the night hours 
Qumtus IS wondering if he 
shall incur the hostility of his 
father Marcus and shall be 
forced to sacrifice his estates 
on the Palatine. He fancies 
also the grief of the fair Lu- 
cretia >vhen she learns that he 
has chosen an alien faith. And 
he remembers, further, that in 
the choice of the Christus he 
is joining a company on w^hom 
the Eastern world is already 
casting its withering contempt. 
Cicero or the Christus. Which 
shall it be? 

There are no struggles like 
the night wrestlings of the 
soul in matters of religion. 
What w^ords can measure the 
divers arguments, the oppos- 
ing considerations, the con- 
flicting emotions that shape 
human choice? Qumtus stands 
at the point w^here soon — in 
the progress of the new^ faith 
— Saul from Tarsus, Clement 
of Rome, and so many more of 
the great spirits of that first 
era are to stand. The w^rest- 
Imgs of the night! Then foul 
demons are abroad ; and then 
37 



God s good angels are descen- 
ding tlie ladders of the sky. 

Soon comes a great mo- 
ment. Willie tne soul of Quin- 
tus IS m wild commotion, 
there falls upon nim a mighty 
force which is not of earth. 
Coming he knows not Avhence, 
but not invading the depart- 
ment of his will, it impels him 
to the Christ. Transformed is 
this Roman knight, who has 
been taught the doctrines of 
the Latin cult, and w^hose na- 
tion can only feel disdain for 
a Galilasan who proposes to 
revolutionize the ages. The 
w^ords of the augur at Brun- 
disium ^re having in truth a 
strange fulfillment. 

As if the Man were present 
on whom he had looked in the 
Porch of Solomon, Quintus 
speaks his choice for the long 
eternities : 

^'Happen w^hat may, I take 
thee, O Christus, for my Lord 
and Master. I sacrifice my 
Roman knighthood for thee, if 
it shall be required. I choose 
thee, because thou hast risen 
from the dead and hast proven 
that there is another life for 
men/* 

38 



Not Cicero, but Cbrist I Tke 
Roman knigkt has made the 
great decision. 



THE VISION OF THE 
RISEN CHRIST 

'After tkat, he was seen of atove 

five hundred brethren at 

once/' — Paul. 



OJM C E for himself was 
Quintus to see the Lord, 
before his departure heaven- 
ward. When midnight hours 
afterw^ard came to him in 
Italy, the memory of that 
vision w^as golden. When, 
among the temples of the gods 
m pagan Rome, men chal- 
lenged his helief, his sufficient 
answer was : *''With mine own 
eyes I have seen the risen 
Teacher who has revealed im- 
mortality to men.' So did the 
first disciples of the faith who 
bore its weightiest burdens, 
enjoy its highest privilege. 

It was the disciple John who 
told Quintus of the oppor- 
tunity to see the risen Lord. In 
an hour of fellowship at Jeru- 
39 



salem — wlien the knigflit kad 
confessed his new allegiance 
— John spoke of the Master's 
wish. The disciples who were 
m the city and its environs 
were to gather m Galilee with 
those from that upper district. 
Once more would their Lord 
show himself to all who be- 
lieved on him, and w^ould 
speak with them. Nor did 
Quintus ever cease to rejoice 
that he w^as reckoned worthy 
to look that day on the Con- 
queror of death. 

With ligfht feet the Jerusa- 
lem company, some six score 
in number, made the journey 
north to Galilee. One subject 
only was on their lips, as they 
followed the road through 
Samaria to Kurn Hattm, near 
the Sea of Tiberias. Here the 
Lord at the openingf of his mis- 
sion had spoken his nine 
blessings to needy mortals ; 
most fitting it now^ was that on 
this memorable hillside he 
should utter his farewell to 
those who had come to believe 
on him. Thus would the circle 
of his teachings end where it 
had begun. Bright was the 
picture. The glint of the sun- 
light on the Galilaean sea so 
40 



near at hand, witli the un- 
counted flowers of the spring- 
time that covered the lower 
plains, lent a charm to the 
scene that Quintus remem- 
bered always. 

At the outset the Roman 
convert is impressed with the 
goodly number of those first 
disciples. They are not tw^elve 
or SIX score, but many more. 
They greet each other with the 
salutation, ' Peace be to you, 
and then they rapturously add, 
*'To-day we shall see our 
Lord/' In that intimacy which 
should always mark the fol- 
lowers of Christ, they give 
Quintus their welcome ; and 
at once he feels himself among 
a congenial brotherhood. 

One is by name Nicodemus, 
a member of the Great San- 
hedrin. Another is one Barti- 
maeus, from southern Jericho, 
whose finger tips have been 
his eyes, till the Lord has 
healed his blindness. A third 
has been a demoniac among 
the hills of the Gergesenes, 
and has been a w^andering and 
truculent challenge to his 
times. A woman is there from 
Jacob's well, with Salome and 
41 



Susanna and the virgin 
mother herself. They are from 
southern Bethlehem ; they 
have come from the w^ild hills 
of Perasa, beyond the Jordan ; 
many are from Galilee, where 
Christ has found so many de- 
voted followers. All these, as 
w^ell as the immortal eleven 
who have composed the inner 
circle of the Master's asso- 
ciates. 

Two other peculiar disciples 
does Quintus see, hoth of 
whom have been raised from 
the dead. Lazarus has come, 
w^ho has so often w^elcomed 
the Lord to his home m Beth- 
any; and with him are the 
sisters, of whom one has 
heard the Teacher say, 'Who- 
soever liveth and believeth in 
me shall never die.' The other 
IS a young vineyard keeper 
from the neighboring village 
of Nain, whom Christ has re- 
stored. His w^ord to Quintus 
IS : 

'Xast year I sickened with a 
fever and passed through the 
door of death. They were car- 
rying me out for burial, and 
my widowed mother was 
w^eeping as one weeps who has 
lost her only son. The Master 
42 



Iialted tte mourners, and 
called me back to eartn. I nave 
never told of tbe wonders 
wliicli I saw m tne spirit world ; 
it would not he lawful. But I 
have been m the great spaces 
teyond the stars, and know 
that the tomb is only a restingf 
place for a little sleep/' 

^'How many disciples are 
there here? ' Qumtus asks of 
the gfood John. To which ques- 
tion the other answ^ers : 

"'Over a half thousand. 
It has been our Master's 
wish that every disciple of his 
througfhout the land should 
come to this meeting place. 
Unto all he would show him- 
self once more, before he re- 
turns to the upper life. So they 
shall have a glad memory of 
his face, and shall be strength- 
ened in their coming tribula- 
tions by the hope of immor- 

ity. 

Then suddenly — the risen 
Lord has come ! The marvel of 
it ! The splendor of it ! While 
the five hundred are talking 
together, the air grows lumin- 
ous w^ith his presence. Out of 
the invisible he appears. As 
suddenly he comes as Aurora 
43 



m ker chariot drives up the 
eastern sky and brings in the 
shining day. When the com- 
pany have lallen on their faces 
and have adored their Master, 
m the hush that follows he 
gives them a great commis- 
sion: 

You are to go forth/' he 
says, **and herald my gospel 
to the world. Let there be no 
laggards in your company. It 
IS a lifelong charge. There is a 
task for Petrus and Johannes, 
for Philippus and Mattheus, 
and for all. You are to look for 
disciples everywhere. You are 
to proclaim the message of re- 
pentance. You are to give 
them the waters of baptism, in 
the name of the God triune. 
You are to declare to sad- 
hearted men the promise of 
eternal life, until I shall come 
again to take men to myself. ' 
That honorable commis- 
sion ! It w^as in coming days to 
stir the souls of apostles and 
quicken the feet of missioners 
and fire w^ith zeal earth's com- 
ing reformers . Nor does Qum- 
tus forget that he too has his 
charge. In the city on the 
Tiber is to be his task. To his 
home circle, to priests in the 
44 



temples of the ^ods, and even 
to the royal Tiberius he is to 
herald the gospel of the resur- 
rection. His vision of the 
risen Lord is the measure of 
his opportunity. 

Then the Master looks into 
his very face, and remembers 
him as the Roman knight he 
had seen in the Porch of Sol- 
omon. The half thousand 
disciples on Kurn Hattin pros- 
trate themselves to the earth ; 
and in their acclaim the 
soldier joins his voice, *'Rab- 
boni ! Rahboni ! Our great 
Master!' Then departs the 
Christ, and back to their 
homes they go, evermore to 
comfort themselves with the 
vision of their risen Lord. 

Soon afterward their Rab- 
boni goes from earth. Out be- 
yond the hill of Olivet he 
w^alks one day w^ith his eleven. 
In their last words together he 
reminds them again that they 
are to be his heralds to the 
eastern world. A cloud gathers 
above their heads, like some 
halting chariot, and he is gone 
forever from human sight. Yet 
only m the distance it seems a 
cloud. For John afterw^ard 
45 



says to Qumtus tliat it was in 
reality a pnalanx of ten thou- 
sand angels, robed in "wliite- 
ness and sent to convoy the 
Son of God to glory everlast- 
ing. 

With Quintus that visit to 
Kurn Hattin shaped all his 
future. His Master s counte- 
nance had seemed to him more 
wonderful than any face which 
the gifted Phidias had ever 
carved in stone. But never in 
after days could he worthily 
tell to Lucretia the vision he 
had seen. Only in one poor 
sentence could he sum it up : 
I have seen for myself the 
risen and ascending Lord.'* 



VI 

CHRIST'S WITNESSES AT 
ROME 

''A great multitude.*' — Tacitus. 

-'■^ ^ 

g^g\ I ' ITH jubilation Quintus 
UwA» sees again the shores 
of Italy rise over the Adriatic, 
and finds himself once more in 
his beloved Rome. The center 
of magnificence and power it 
46 



seems. After clamorous public 
greetings in tlie Forum, tliere 
comes another welcome wnicn 
happens only in a returnmgf 
soldier's life. In tke palace of 
Marcus the kindred of Quin- 
tus are gathered, and Lucretia 
also is m the circle, to hear his 
great adventure. 

''How wonderful it seems,'' 
the knight begins ; *'so many 
times have your faces come to 
me m my dreams, but now^ I 
am fully awake and see them 
once again. Hail to you all ! 
When I w^as sailing aw^ay from 
Brundisium, the augur fore- 
told for me an unusual expe- 
rience. In the Jewish life be- 
yond the Sea I have learned 
much, if that w^ere the fulfill- 
ment. But, most of all, I have 
come back w^ith a new^ reli- 
gious faith. In Judaea, as you 
must have heard, a certain 
Galilaean has called himself 
the Son of the one true God. 
He has spoken of a future life 
for men ; and he has now^ risen 
from the grave, after his 
torture on a cross, to prove his 
doctrine true. I now believe in 
him, as the interpreter of the 
future life. Forevermore he is 
my High Priest, and not the 
47 



^reat pontifex m the temple of 
your Jupiter. 

Brave words tliey are. 
There in the great hall of 
Marcus, with the sunlight 
shining on the gorgeous 
palaces of the Caesars, the 
Temple of Apollo, and all else 
w^hich crowns the Palatine, 
the notle Qumtus confesses 
his new^ belief. Come what 
w^ill the consequences ! 

Then, while they hear m 
amazement, he further says : 

""'Most inviting is this new 
creed. Our w^ise Roman schol- 
ars, as well as those in Greece, 
have only teen guessers about 
the future life. But the Chris- 
tus speaks as one who has 
come from the heavens. Those 
w^ho keep his commandments 
are to dwell w^ith him forever- 
more in eternal joy. Every- 
where through Judaea men are 
becoming his followers, and 
the wide world is to believe on 
him. Perhaps you also, my 
, cherished ones, will come to 
accept his teaching of the 
future life.'' 

So Quintus speaks, with 

his vibrant voice and with a 

strange light on his face. 

Wonderingly they hear the 

48 



tidings tkat lie brings — tlie re- 
cital of the greatest liappeningf 
that can ever befall a man. 
Not deriding their valiant sol- 
dier, and not withholding their 
wealth of love from one who 
has come safely back to them, 
they watch the changes m his 
life. 

''I do not care, he says, 
*'to loiter in the baths of 
Agrippa and to hear from the 
idlers there the gossip of the 
hour. The gladiatorial strug- 
gles in the Circus Maximus 
and the comedies in the 
theaters have lost for me their 
relish. For the civic rew^ards 
w^hich Tiberius gives his fa- 
vored ones I have no w^ish. 
Senatorships and proconsul- 
ships are like the dust in the 
apothecaries' scales. I have 
seen the risen Lord !'' 

Influential is such a life on 
the home group of Quintus. 
With his pride of birth and his 
great properties, Marcus be- 
comes a believer. A conver- 
sion it IS which is the surprise 
of Rome. The rare Lucretia, 
as well, receives the truth. At 
times, before she has called 
herself a disciple, Quintus 
escorts her to the worship of 
49 



the Roman Christians. Their 
captivating speech, their holy 
love for one another, their rap- 
turous faces move her deepest 
heart. Till, one day, when 
Qumtus has been tellingf her 
of the womanhood in Judasa 
which the Christ has en- 
nobled, she replies : 

'T believe it all, O Quintus. 
Of late into my heart an un- 
told peace has come. All things 
are changed for me. The sun- 
light is on the hills !' It is her 
open confession. Lucretia is 
thenceforth enrolled among 
the Roman saints of w^hom the 
world was not worthy, and 
who looked for the life to come. 

In the fellowship of the Ro- 
man church — already founded 
and rapidly enlarging — Quin- 
tus finds his pleasure. A few 
are Jews from the ghetto be- 
yond the Tiber, till the perse- 
cution of Claudius drives them 
forth. More are of the varied 
nationalities met in that com- 
mercial and luxurious center. 
Most are of plebeian blood. 
There are smiths and mechan- 
ics; there are stone cutters, 
workers in mosaics, and dec- 
orators. There are slaves from 
50 



tlie very palace of Tiberius. 
Ttere is Amon from Egfypt, 
wko sells his jewelry aoAvn in 
tLe Nova Via. Tkere is Pole- 
mon, the Grecian shopkeeper, 
m the Clivus Victoriae. There 
is Onesimus, the servant of 
Philemon, from C o 1 o s s ae. 
There are Amplias ana Epae- 
netus and Stachys, the partic- 
ular friends of the Gentile 
apostle. There IS, as well, Pom- 
ponia Graecma, that woman of 
no tie tlood, who accepts the 
Christ. An ever«increasing 
company it is. 

In their assemblies, on the 
nrst day of the w^eek, Qumtus 
has his influential place. He 
listens to the reading of the 
older Scriptures ; he cele- 
orates with the gathered com- 
pany the eucharistic suppers 
and agfapae ; he keeps with 
them the Easter celebration, 
m memory of Him who shall 
give them eternal life. In em- 
blem of their faith the sign of 
the fish IS on their evening 
lamps. Theirs is a sterling 
citizenship. The w^anton me- 
tropolis of the Caesars is 
blessed immeasurably by the 
company of these who follow 
the risen Lord. 
51 



It is after the midcentury 
that the great Paulus, having 
met with shipwreck on Melita, 
draw^s near to Rome. Quintus 
leads the company that goes 
out south w^ard forty miles, to 
welcome the Christian trav- 
eler. At Appii Forum, that 
common tow^n w^ith its barge- 
men and its tavern keepers, 
they give the kiss of welcome 
io a little bent and gray- 
haired Jew, who shall go down 
into history as Christ's most 
illustrious apostle. The faith- 
ful Luke IS his companion. 
Along the famous highw^ay of 
the Via Appia, where emperors 
and warriors, scholars and 
Oriental tradesmen have 
w^alked, Quintus escorts their 
guest. Past the tombs of the 
Roman great, by uncounted 
statues, past suburban villas 
they go, until, through the 
Porta Appia, the holy prisoner, 
chained to a Roman guard, 
finds himself in the city of the 
Cassars. 

One rare privilege the Ro- 
man knight then enjoys. In 
his hired house, near the 
Pretorian camp, Paul speaks 
without interruption his words 
of grace. The doctrines he had 
52 



tefore written to the Roman 
churck lie now explains ; tne 
wish he had made to see them 
face to face now expresses it- 
self m words of love. The flood 
tides of his eloquence move 
resistlessly on^ as he inter- 
prets the new faith and speaks 
of Him vs^ho IS to ^ive them 
eternal life. Quintus is en- 
riched by his frequent associa- 
tion with the peerless soul. 
Nor did he have a prouder 
thing to say, m the days to 
come, than to declare, 1 
heard great Paulus tell of the 
life immortal. 

But how fares our knight 
w^ h e n persecution comes? 
Through the years he has 
been bravely declaring the 
Christian doctrine of the 
eternal life to priests in the 
temples, to Roman nobles, to 
all most hostile . But his wealth 
and social standing, as w^ell as 
the emperor's favor, now^ in- 
sure his safety. His father 
Marcus has long since passed 
on, in hope of the heavenly 
life. Having wedded the 
graceful Lucretia, when an 
apostle was m Rome to speak 
their nuptials, he has her ef- 
53 



hcient counsel m tlie testingf 
times. 

*Xook! look! Lucretia,*' he 
cries, one evening; ''througfk 
the lower city the flames 
are running like unbridled 
horses. There is danger 
that all Rome may go to 
ashes.'* 

For nine long days they 
watch the sweep of the lurid 
flames. The light shines out 
like a signal torch, to mark an 
emperor's folly. Then the un- 
deserved charge that they 
have lit the flames brings on 
the martyrdom of the Roman 
Christians. Sometimes Quin- 
tus and Lucretia are able to 
soften the trials of the suf- 
ferers, by permission of the 
capricious Nero. To old Chilo, 
the Grecian, before he meets 
his doom, they unfold the 
promise of eternal rew^ard in 
the Father's house. The hope 
of immortality they carry to 
those w^ho go to the lions, at 
the emperor's w^himsical com- 
mand. And the glorious com- 
pany of martyrs passes singing 
to the skies, because of their 
consoling words. 

Dow^n into the dungeon of 
the Mamertine they are per- 
54 



mitted once to gfo, to visit 
Paulus. But ne needs not tneir 
consolation. Ratner he is the 
comforter. With the poise of a 
conqueror he bids them not to 
mourn for him ; he is gfoing to 
the Lord m the unending hfe. 
Over their bowed heads he 
stretches his aged hands, in 
apostolic benediction. Soon 
ends his imprisonment. At 
Tre Fontane, m a few days 
more, his weary body rests; 
but his immortal spirit mounts 
beyond the stars. 

At last the Christian knight 
comes to the crossing. The 
prediction of the augur at 
Brundisium has been strik- 
ingly fulfilled. Matured in all 
the graces, he is like the 
ripened Chian clusters that 
await the vintager m the 
autumn days. The friends of 
Qumtus have gone before ; as 
the old century wanes, the old 
man is to follow them. 

'My time has come to go,' 
he says one day ; the portals 
of eternal life and joy I see 
swinging open wide. I shall 
pass through the gates, be- 
cause my ascended Lord has 
gone m before me to prepare 
55 



U- 



my dwelling place. Witk Lim 
as my Teacher I believe in 
the life immortal/' 

In tlie Roman catacombs, 
those most remarkable testi- 
monies to the eternal life, bis 
resting place may be found. 
Tbe sign of tbe fisb is on bis 
stone. Its time-eaten inscrip- 
tion IS still legible, among tbe 
many \vbicb tell of tbe early 
Christian expectation and of 
all future Christian hope : 

'HERE RESTS THE DUST OF 
QUINTUS, OF NOBLE BLOOD : 
IN THE FAITH OF THE 
ASCENDED LORD HE HAS 
ENTERED UPON THE ETER- 
NAL LIFE.'' 



56 



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